Chapter 6: The Archery Lesson
On the day that was set for the archery lesson, Legolas awoke filled with energy – he might have been thousand years younger than his actual age! He leapt from his resting place, dressed himself carefully in a tunic and leggings of good quality leather. He might have liked to look finer, but he was, after all, going to an appointment to teach archery, where embroidered silk or linen would look quite out of place. He hummed to himself as he strode purposefully down the halls he shared with his parents and many of the Silvan and Sindarin elves that had once inhabited their kingdom in the Greenwood. Stopping in the dining hall and taking naught but an apple with him, Legolas did not notice the curious eyes and smiles that followed him.
Lossrilleth, in comparison, had passed through the first day of enjoyable anticipation and was now primarily in a state of anxiety and doubt. After speaking with Celebrian about finding something appropriate to wear to an archery lesson she found herself the butt of some teasing by those closest to her about her budding relationship with Legolas. Lossrilleth had been surprised by the seriousness with which she heard others speaking of them as a couple – she had thought the dance she shared with Legolas the night of the party as only a harmless flirtation. In her experience, the elves did everything with (sometimes infuriating) care and deliberation, and she had always assumed that courtship would be a lengthy ritual. But on the second day, she overheard Gandalf speaking to Elrond, saying Well I for one think it will be a very fine match. Legolas has been alone too long after the death of his beloved friends. Who better than he who befriended a dwarf and a human king to understand an elf who was once a human? And who better than an elf who was once a human to understand the sorrow of losing a beloved mortal to death?
Lossrilleth had departed quietly, beginning to feel a cold dread. They speak as if we should announce our engagement any day! She thought to herself in alarm. Lossrilleth had spent the remaining time until the appointment in a flurry of thought – she wondered if she had been altogether too bold on the night of the party, although her memory of their closeness during the dance also provoked a hot feeling in her body and she found herself slipping into daydreams about Legolas frequently. She tried to remember if having a crush as a human had felt quite so overwhelming and thought that, actually, it probably had.
Lossrilleth began to feel herself awaken to the reality of her new life in a way she had not, up to that point. For Lossrilleth had until that day passed her time in Valinor feeling as if she were in a beautiful dream. Good food, kind people, no responsibilities at all, and all the time in the world to spend learning fascinating new languages, stories, and practicing the arts. Truly, for her, the Undying Lands were a paradise. She had wondered to herself more than once if this might instead be madness, finally having overcome her after years of wandering in space as a bodiless soul. She had considered that one or the other – dreams or insanity – were the best explanation for how she could find herself newly embodied in a land that had been born out of the imagination of a British professor who died before she was even born.
So on that morning, she found herself pulled between the parts of herself that, on the one hand, gravely questioned the wisdom of meeting Legolas again without first better understanding the rules of elven courtship and the nature of her new reality, and, on the other hand, waited restlessly for the correct hour to arrive, all the while hoping that archery lessons would require a lot of touching.
They both arrived precisely on time at the old training grounds on the edge of the elven settlement. They greeted each other politely, and Legolas led Lossrilleth into the ancient weapons hall on the north end of the grounds to select equipment. As they stepped into the room, Lossrilleth temporarily forgot her worry, as she took in the surprisingly immense room, filled to the teeth with bows and arrows, spears, swords, knives, and armor of all kinds. Everything gleamed in the sun that shone in the small, high windows that lit up the hall.
Everything looks as fresh as if it were newly made! She exclaimed; I had thought that such a place would be out of use in the Blessed Lands.
There are those here who are tasked with keeping up these halls, Legolas said. There are many here who come and practice their martial arts from time to time, for the future is unknowable and we should not like to be caught out of practice. Lossrilleth nodded, thinking that this was wise. From what she knew of humans, it was entirely possible that a new space age could dawn, and mankind could find its way to the shores of Valinor, stepping out boldly like a second coming of Neil Armstrong.
Legolas selected a bow and quiver and a large straw target and frame, which took the two of them to drag out onto the grounds. Affixing a replaceable paper target to the circular straw bale, Legolas jogged back to the shooting line. Lossrilleth admired his running form as something deep in her abdomen started to feel a bit liquid. She caught herself as quickly as she could, hoping that her companion had not noticed her looking at him so.
He had noticed, of course, for elves have keen sight and he was likewise fixated on her in any case. Legolas was somewhat surprised by how bold she seemed – this was no shrinking violet of an elf-maiden straight out of childhood! But on reflection, he found her transparency endearing, and also emboldening, for he felt no fear of overstepping and shocking her, as he might with an elleth who behaved very shyly. If they were to court, he thought it would be an uncommon courtship indeed, but one he relished the idea of. After a lifetime of satisfaction with the love of friendship between comrades, Legolas found himself quickly opening to the idea of a new venture into the love that elven bond mates share.
The lesson began then in earnest. Legolas showed her how to string the bow, how to hold it, how to fit an arrow to the string, and how to draw back and aim. Here and there he corrected her stance, reaching out to shift her elbow up a little or tapping her knee to remind her to straighten up. At first each of these touches burned each of them like small sparks escaped from a campfire, but as they continued, they focused more on the task at hand and a little less on each other's distracting presence. Lossrilleth tried to concentrate and soon was in the flow of learning a new skill. She shot round after round, until she was hitting the target most of the time and getting progressively closer to the center. After repeatedly hitting the second closest circle to the center and coming no closer, Legolas came and stood right before her, with only the drawn bow between them. You must improve your follow through, he instructed. When you release the arrow, you must stay still until it is fully away from you. Try again. Legolas put one hand below her drawing elbow, and the other holding the wrist of her bowhand firmly. Drawing back, she loosed the arrow, and he held her frame still as the taught string snapped between them. The arrow quivered in the dead center of the target. Lossrilleth turned her eyes towards the ellon now mere inches from her. He smiled warmly and released her, saying, I think that is a good start for a first lesson. We are beginning to lose the light.
Lossrilleth agreed, and the two began the task of gathering stray arrows and then dragging the target back to its place in storage. When all was packed away, they found themselves alone on the training grounds, with twilight falling slowly about them. They began to walk back towards the town where they both dwelt, falling in step naturally.
You should continue practicing, Legolas said, you've done well to start but it does take some time to build skill, as I am sure you understand. Perhaps we should meet again next week for another lesson?
Lossrilleth was at war with herself. She walked behind him now because the track was narrow and took a moment to look inwardly to better understand her own mind. Her doubts surged fiercely, but just as fiercely she felt the chemistry swiftly brewing between them. And more than that, she found her heart quickly opening in a way that exceeded mere lust of the body. She wished to know him better, she wished him happiness, and her heart sung. This, she decided, was not quite the same as having a crush in her old life. Something was decidedly more tender. She determined to accept the offer of more lessons, and in the meantime, she would question her elven mentors to better understand the ways of elves and love.
All this thought passed in the time of a long breath, during which Legolas had turned to look at her as she paused. He had thought all was well and was floating as much as walking ahead of her, but her brief silence brought him back to earth. He could see that she was hard at thinking, before she turned to him and smiled tentatively. Yes, she said, I would like that. Legolas smiled and continued walking, now in his own thoughts about her hesitation.
Walking behind, Lossrilleth looked closely at Legolas's gray cloak, which she had not noticed before. Unlike his tunic and leggings, which looked fresh and new, the cloak had seen better days. There were several small holes in the woven fabric, and the cloak looked very well worn overall.
My lord, she asked carefully, your cloak… is it special to you in some way that you keep it even as it ages? She stepped beside him as they came into a clearing that opened into a broader passageway into the town, seeking his eyes. Legolas hesitated, instinctively putting a hand on the worn garment. Yes, he admitted, this is the very cloak that Galadriel and Celeborn gave to me and to each of the Fellowship of the Ring long ago. I wore it for the duration of that quest, and in my days spent with the dearest friends of my heart, Gimli and Aragorn, in Middle Earth. I would not part with it, though most would leave such an ancient garment to return to the earth after so many years.
Lossrilleth felt keenly the loss the spoke of, for she too had lost well-loved mortals. She wished she had a cloak that reminded her of her sister, or parents, or dearest friends. And no one can repair it for you? She asked gently.
In truth I have never asked, Legolas replied. There are rents in woven cloth, and I cannot bear to see it crudely patched or stitched like a wound. She could hear the tightness in his voice as he contemplated this favored reminder of his lost companions being ruined.
If you like, she said with hesitation, I could take it to the weaving house and see if I can find the tools to darn it for you. This is a way of fixing woven things that leaves no scar if done carefully. I have not fixed such an item since coming to Valinor, but I did know this skill well before. I think if I can find the right thread, I could fix these holes. She reached out and touched one of the holes, looking at it with a practiced eye.
Legolas was touched by the generosity and sincerity of her wish to help. He had told a few trusted others the true reason why he kept the aging cloth close, and they had responded with the appropriate words of sympathy, but each time he had felt their lack of true understanding. Looking down into the face of the elleth before him, he saw true empathy and compassion. From what he had heard of her, he wondered that she must have lost dearly held mortals as well and for the first time, he felt that his grief was truly seen.
Legolas unfastened the cloak and with only a slight quiver placed it in her outstretched hands, which touched his own firmly for a moment, then accepted the precious memento with care. They walked the rest of the way into the city in warm silence, until they came to the crossing at which they should part ways.
Until we meet again, Legolas said, bowing.
And though she wished she could give him a kiss on the cheek, or put a hand on his arm, she did what was right in these lands and curtsied gracefully in return. Yes, until we meet again.